Monster
by PennedNBlack
Summary: SONG FIC. This is about how Snape sees himself after he murdered Dumbledore. Read and Review please.


**"Monster"**

**A/N: I got this idea while hanging out with a friend and listening to this Skillet song. Read, Enjoy, and Review. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Severus Snape JK Rowling does. I also do not own the Skillet song Monster. **

Snape was deemed a hero by some and a murderer by others. Both sides were wrong. He was neither a hero nor a murderer. Okay, so maybe he could be deemed a murderer. He just obeyed Dumbledore's wishes, but he couldn't help but feel horrid about the part he had played in ending a good man's life. He never thought that it would have come to that.

_The secret side of me, I never let you see_

_I keep it caged but I can't control it_

_So stay away from me, the beast is ugly_

_I feel the rage and I can't hold it_

Part of him was mad that it had been a task awarded to him. He found a bottle of wine and was now drinking heavily from it. He'd felt like different somehow, after killing a man. He felt power and shame, glory and infamy, strength and weakness. It was all so confusing to him. He wondered if this was how the Dark Lord had felt when he killed the Potters. When he killed Lily… He couldn't allow himself to think of such things, of her, of Lily. Did that mean he'd become as cold and as icy as the Dark Lord himself? He took another heavy swig of the wine. He had to drown out any remnant of who he'd become before it all caught up with him.

_It's scratching on the walls, in the closet, in the halls_

_It comes awake and I can't control it_

_Hiding under the bed, in my body, in my head_

_Why won't somebody come and save me from this, make it end?_

He staggered over to his bed; he needed to get away from the nightmarish world he'd created for himself. As he drifted off to bed a twinge of guilt hit him, he was a murderer. He had blood on his hands, and he had somewhat enjoyed the task, and the power that it had given him, but what was even worse is that he felt the guilt. Hadn't Dumbledore begged him to do it, wasn't he more of an angel of mercy than a hell bound murderer? This question was haunting him. He closed his eyes, hoping he'd be taken anywhere else but where he was.

_I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin_

_I must confess that I feel like a monster_

_I hate what I've become, the nightmare's just begun_

_I must confess that I feel like a monster_

His mind was set on showing him one thing and one thing only. The murder of Dumbledore, in his mind he could hear Dumbledore saying, "Please, Severus." He hated those words. They would always haunt him. They were the words that created a murderer. He couldn't help that when he had killed Dumbledore that he had felt a slight twinge of enjoyment, maybe it was even pleasure. Hadn't this man denied him the post he'd wanted until that year? He had also put the awful task of spying on the Dark Lord on him. He'd risked his life over and over again and now what? How were things going to unfold? He watched as his wand shot the unforgiveable curse at the Headmaster, he watched as the silver-haired man fell out of the window, until he hit the ground. He felt some sort of mixture of pride and fear as he realized he had completed the task. The other Death Eaters that had come to witness the event rallied around him as they made their escape.

_I, I feel like a monster_

_I, I feel like a monster_

He was being accepted, then why was it that he felt so alone? He woke up. This situation was a disaster. His life had been pretty good before this, if he was being honest with himself. His murder of Dumbledore had changed everything. He felt a source of power…

_My secret side I keep hid under lock and key_

_I keep it caged but I can't control it_

'_Cause if I let him out he'll tear me up, break me down_

_Why won't somebody come and save me from this, make it end?_

He didn't want to be known as the man that killed Dumbledore. He didn't want to be known for any of the things he was known for. How had his life gotten this way? How had he become so cold? How had he allowed himself to become a murderous monster?

_I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin_

_I must confess that I feel like a monster_

_I hate what I've become, the nightmare's just begun_

_I must confess that I feel like a monster_

It was true. He had become a monster, a murderous Death Eater. He'd killed the man that gave him his freedom. There was no other word for him. He was a monster, a loathsome creature.

_I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin_

_I must confess that I feel like a monster_

_I, I feel like a monster_

_I, I feel like a monster_

_It's hiding in the dark, its teeth are razor sharp_

_There's no escape for me, it wants my soul, it wants my heart_

_No one can hear me scream, maybe it's just a dream_

_Maybe it's inside of me, stop this monster_

He took another swig from the wine bottle hoping that it would help calm his nerves. He rolled up his sleeves, tracing his fingers over a few recent scabs. He couldn't help the need for self-mutilation. It gave him a release. He dug a small pocket knife from his pocket. He opened the knife and dug it into his skin, watching as the blood began to flow. He closed his eyes and felt a mixture of pleasure and pain. It relaxed him, but it couldn't possibly get rid of the monster murderer he'd become.

_I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin_

_I must confess that I feel like a monster_

_I hate what I've become, the nightmare's just begun_

_I must confess that I feel like a monster_

_I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin_

_I must confess that I feel like a monster_

_I've gotta lose control, he's something radical_

_I must confess that I feel like a monster_

He was just going to accept it. He was a monster. Severus Snape was a monster. He'd always been a monster, and he'd always be a monster.

_I, I feel like a monster_

_I, I feel like a monster_

_I, I feel like a monster_

_I, I feel like a monster_

**A/N: Thanks again for reading. **


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